With a knife, through a bush
by Fishy-Bubbles
Summary: Will needs Lyra to complete a mission that he has set for himself. Going back through, Will finds Lyra, but refuses to tell her what he needs her for. R & R!
1. Chapter 1

Just a quick note: This is my first for the His Dark Materials section, but I have other works!

Please, please, please, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! You have no idea how desperate I am for feedback. I'm even promising that I'll read and review your stories if you do it for mine. Fair's fair. How's that for a bribe? (But if your comment is just useless and uninteresting, then I'll forward it back to you.)

OOXX Fishy-Bubbles

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_I still think of her. I can't help it. I __seem to be thinking about her more and more lately, and that scares me. I know that I can't go back, and that I'll never see her again, but my memories seem to be getting shaper as each day goes by. The only logical reason I can come up with is that something's wrong. Something has to be. If only I could find a way into Lyra's world. If only…_

(Note pinned to noticeboard)

"Missing boy of 14 years. Of medium height with dark hair. 2 days missing. Any information known please call …"

Witness report

"I saw a boy of that description crossing the busy highway. He disappeared near a clump of bushes, just into thin air. I thought that I was seeing things – you know how it is in the city – but thought that it might be important all the same.

He looked like he was carrying a knife…"

Will looked back at the bustling street of Oxford. That was his home, but this was where he had to be. On the other side. With Lyra and Pan.

Will had left Kirjava behind. She hadn't known of what he was planning, and recently, when he had retreated inside of himself, the gap between them had widened. It was probably for the best anyway.

Will stood up from his crouching position and surveyed the area around him. The little city looked exactly the same as it had 2 years ago. With a sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, he pulled out the knife from his belt.

The knife was a curious artefact. But what the boy was doing with it was even more curious. He started an intricate dancing pattern, wielding the tip through the air. Twist, turn, pull, retreat. The pattern changed, and all the while as the boy kept his eyes closed. He was concentrating, but on what you couldn't tell.

Suddenly, he stopped, the knife poised in mid-air. Slowly, almost reverently, Will sliced sideways in a clean cut. He leaned through and smelt the musty air of a world long forgotten.

_Lyra…_

_Why is Will stuck in my head? It's been 2 years, you'd think I was over him! Obviously not, _thought Lyra sceptically. _Oh, Will, why did you leave me?_

Something of her thoughts must have been showing on her face, as the Master's whip cracked down on her desk.

"Dreaming, Lyra? Perhaps you would like to share." The Master's angry face loomed in-front of her own. Startled out of her daydream, Lyra stood up. She knew that he would be expecting an answer, even if she didn't want to give it.

"I, uh, was thinking of the colours I might use for my sewing project." She grimaced at her quick lie.

"And?" The Master wasn't letting her off so easily.

"Perhaps we could make a quilt.." Lyra's voice trailed off slowly. _Oh God_, she though, _what type of a hole am I digging myself into now? I _hate _sewing!_

"What an interesting suggestion. I shall see what we can do.

Now, please focus on my lesson for the remainder of the hour. I am not here to teach you for nothing." The Master turned away with compressed anger.

Lyra sighed and sat back down again. Her lessons weren't going well. And she knew the Master well – he would speak to her sewing teacher, and she would have to produce a quilt for her fast thinking. Not the best start.

Ever since Will had left her for his world, Lyra has started to despise hers, and wished she had gone with him. Nothing could have made her happier, but staying had seemed to be the best decision at the time.

What she wouldn't give to see his face again…

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Please read and review! (see above)

And, for those of you who didn't know, they are currently making a movie on His Dark Materials trilogy. Can't wait!


	2. Chapter 2

Okay, I have (against my better judgment) updated this story. To be honest, before I got these reviews, I was actually trying to delete it! Looks like I now have an actual story-line instead of writing as I go.

Hope you enjoy!

Oh, and my sincerest thanks goes out to :

**bonboni**

**dogstar-ebony**

**Lady Moon Dragon**

If it wasn't for you guys, this wouldn't be up there!

(Note: is used when I change from Will to Lyra, or Lyra to Will. Just so you don't get confused!)

**Disclaimer – **No matter how hard I wish for it, I have never actually written anything that has been published, (expect on FanFiction of course!) especially His Dark Materials Trilogy. That's why it has Phillip Pullman's name at the bottom, not mine. 

Will warily stood up from his crouching position. He cautiously scanned his surroundings, taking into thought the now very clearly-shaped moving clouds of smoke.

It seemed such a long time since he had been here – the Spectres were even in clearer focus than they were before. It seemed a good idea if he moved as fast as possible. The less time that the Spectres had to locate him, the better. With this thought in mind, Will set off in a brisk pace to higher ground.

He smiled to himself. At least something of his adventures had not been wasted on him. _Higher ground, _indeed. Still grinning idiotically to himself, Will set off to the Tower of Angels to think.

Lyra scowled over the work she was holding at her patchwork teacher. When she had given this day-dreaming excuse to the Master a few weeks ago, she knew that he would indeed talk to her other teachers.

So here she was, now bent over a pile of mismatched fabric that would – miraculously – soon resemble something of a quilt. It seemed that even Lyra's patchwork teacher had doubts; she didn't like any of Lyra's choices.

Mrs Petre – Lyra's teacher – had always had something against Lyra. She always found a way to watch Lyra, and Lyra was forever looking over her shoulder to check that Mrs Petre's head wasn't poking out from behind a doorway or tabletop. Lyra often thought that she was going mad; what was it that Mrs Petre had against her? Lyra had never been a model student, but no one had really expected her to be either. With Mrs Petre it was something different; Lyra was sure that there was a reason to why she was constantly Lyra's every move.

Pushing her thoughts away from Mrs Petre as she came into sight, Lyra bent – once again – over her jumble of patchwork colours. The less Mrs Petre had to criticise her on, the better.

It didn't seem like today was Lyra's lucky day.

'What do you think you are doing, you irksome child?' screeched Mrs Petre. Lyra had mislabelled her measurements of fabrics for the fourth time. Lyra had found the whole measurement thing very difficult – since she was designing her own quilt, the measurements had to be precise for the quilt to be perfect.

'I'm sorry, miss, it won't happen again,' said Lyra hurriedly. Leaning over her work once more, Lyra watched Mrs Petre as she shuffled away. _Old hag, _thought Lyra, _trust her to know when I was only a few centimetres out. _

Mercifully, the bell rang at that exact moment. Break had arrived.

Lyra got up and stuffed all of her fabrics into her bag. She was already halfway out the door when she realised that Mrs Petre was yelling at her for creasing her already folded fabrics. Without pausing to tell her that she would iron them again next lesson, Lyra set off at a brisk pace to the courtyard. From there, she walked through the corrugated iron doors that marked the school's boundaries.

There was work to be done.

Will looked through the broken windows of the Tower of Angels. He could feel Lyra's presence, a dim flicker inside of him that indicated that she was in another world, but alive. At the moment, that was what mattered. Will knew that he needed Lyra; he knew that he couldn't do it on his own. Lyra had to be there with him.

Will went over the plan details again. Everything had to be perfect; the locations, the timing and – most importantly – Will's knife had to be intact. That was absolutely the top-most priority. Without the knife, there would be no point in proceeding. Will knew that if he lost the knife, or if it was damaging in any way, he had no reason to succeed.

With this thought in mind, Will thought of Lyra's world and cut open a window. Cautiously, he poked his head out through the straight edge of air and turned his head, looking for any sign of human life.

Satisfied that there was no one in the immediate area, Will pushed his whole body through. Straightening up, Will closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel Lyra's flicker of life grow stronger. He was closer. Pleased, Will opened his eyes again.

He looked at the winding streets ahead of him. Lyra was here. It was the day that they had parted, on the exact hour. She would be waiting on a park bench that existed in both of their worlds. Soon, very soon, Will would find her, and together they would set off on an adventure that would change both the past and present of both Will and Lyra's worlds.

Smiling, Will started walking.

Hope you liked it; I was in a bit of a hurry to get it up here. Sorry, I know that I probably should have edited it, but I promise that the next chapter will be thoroughly read, edited and probably re-written!

PS The review button is just to the left of these words! 


	3. Chapter 3

Alrighty, here's the third chapter. Hope that you enjoy. All I can ask is that you review, but how likely that is, is up to you.

Disclaimer: Obviously not by me; do you really think that Will would be hiding in a lake if Phillip Pullman wrote it? I think not.

Will couldn't stop staring at her. Every couple of seconds, he would glance up at her again, only to – once again – wonder at how changed she was. Lyra's physical appearance wasn't really any different than before. It was more of the fact that there was something _inside _of her that showed on the outside. He couldn't explain it; Lyra just seemed more confident and, it was like, she _glowed. _

Will was, at the present moment, hiding in a prickly shrub that was located across from the bench that Lyra was currently sitting on. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but, as Will kept reminding himself, the safest one. He had wanted to be somewhere where he could see Lyra, but not be in her sight or any of the general public's. Will didn't want to jump out at any innocent bystander.

He knew that he probably should have moved by now; to go see Lyra and ask of her what he had come for, but Will couldn't stop staring at her. _She's beautiful_, he thought.

Shaking his head wildly from side to side, he continued to watch Lyra. She had her eyes closed and was breathing deeply. It looked like she was in remembrance of something good, as her mouth was curved upwards in a smile. Will felt so happy watching her; he hadn't seen Lyra for a long time.

Lyra's eyes suddenly snapped open. _Someone is watching me, _she thought wildly, looking around. _I'm sure of it. _

There wasn't anyone in the park at all, except for two lovers strolling away with their backs to her. Scolding herself for thinking that it would be obvious, Lyra instead scanned the most obvious hiding spots.

She checked under the bench, behind the bench, up the few trees that were behind the bench. She even looked in the garbage bin next to her. There wasn't any sign of anyone. The only spot left was the bush that was on the other side of the walking path. It looked really prickly though; why anyone would bother hiding there, she had no idea.

Thinking it might be worth a try, Lyra crossed the path to peer into the bush.

_Oh, crap, _thought Will. _Why the hell is she coming over here?_ Quickly scrambling out of his temporary hiding place, Will looked around for a new one. As far as he could see, the dark expanse of the lake behind him was his only option.

_Here goes nothing, _thought Will grimly, as he slid his body mutely into the water. _Crap, it's cold! _The black water lapped up gently against his clothes. Checking mentally that none of his body was above the lake-level, he took a deep, silent breath and ducked his head under. All he could hope for now was that Lyra wouldn't take too long with her search for him. Will knew that he could hold his breath for almost 2 minutes. Already he was counting in his head: _9..10..11..12..13…_

Lyra found the knapsack that was hidden in the bush, along with a pair of gloves and a scarf. She picked up the clothing; it was still warm, but barely. Someone had been here, and they hadn't been gone long. Seeing as they had left these items behind made Lyra think that they had left against their will.

Lyra picked up the knapsack and up-ended it. Rummaging through the contents, she found a battered-looking camera; complete with a full-colour picture of herself sitting on the bench. There was also a water-bottle, an apple, and something that was once a half-eaten sandwich. And – Lyra's heart almost stopped – an object that could only belong to one person.

It was a knife, the handle ornately decorated in angels. Lyra slid it from its sheath and knew that she wasn't mistaken; this was definitely Will's knife. Dropping it, Lyra looked around. _Where would he have hidden? _She had covered all of the obvious spots. Scanning the landscape, the only other place for Will to be was the lake. But surely he wouldn't…?

Will couldn't see Lyra, but he knew that she had found his belongings that he had left in the bush. He had forgotten all about them; if he had more time, Will would have been able to hide them, but he was lucky to get into the lake as it was.

As Will heard Lyra rummaging around in his bag, he was painfully aware of the precious seconds of time he had spent underwater. He had already counted a minute and 12 seconds. He wouldn't last must longer. What was Lyra doing?

Deciding that the black lake was the only option, Lyra quickly striped off her thick coat, shoes and pants. The more dry clothes she had, the better. She could Will her coat. Lyra knew that he was in the water in everything he had; all he had left behind was a scarf and gloves.

Wondering at how long Will had been under, Lyra dived neatly into the water. If her assumptions were right, then Will would probably be near the edge of the lake where he could grab the wall of the grass.

The water was icy cold, murky and impossible to see in. The only senses you could really rely on was touch and hearing.

Keeping her mouth firmly closed, Lyra advanced to the edge of the water. Will had to see here somewhere. The only question was where…

Will heard a small splash ahead of him. Even though he knew that he should move, he couldn't. He had almost exhausted his air supply and was too weak to move out of the way. Will was certain that Lyra had caused that splash and that she was searching for him. But he couldn't move…

Will suddenly felt small strong fingers brush the edge of his coat. He barely registered that is must be Lyra, before he was hauled out of the water and placed on the bank. He was shivering as he heard Lyra's rough breathing and her hands trying to take off his coat.

Will's head lolled to the side and his eyes slid in and out of focus. He was only just conscious, but he still felt Lyra put a thick, dry winter coat around his body and hug him close to her to keep him warm.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that; with Will cradled in Lyra's arms, both of them dripping wet. Later on, they would both realise that the sun had come up, and that it was then that people started to help them, tried to get them to move. But both were oblivious to everything except each other. No matter how hard anyone tried, they could not prise the pair apart.

They were together again at last.


End file.
